an aceldama littered with corpses, withered cerebrum spills from heads hacked in twain incarnadine shower across land scoured quenching the sod, the blood of the slain battles we’ve fought and conquests we’ve wrought in wholesale slaughter, embroiled harvesting dead for our dinner spread to the victors, the fruit of the spoiled

a quartet of gorelords, reigning in blood sweetmeats are ablated in a sanguine flood survivors of the melee are illaqueated deigned as pabulation, impinguated

raise the stakes, leave them all impaled flagitations have all failed raise the stakes, leave them all impaled tapered pikes piercing entrails

trodding down a path, beset on each side by the ganched and their horrisonant cries astride cac*minated poles, they point the way to an arescent feast celebrating victory